Bloodhounds
by Doc Scratch Probably
Summary: Some of my friends would not be proud, but here it is. Short Intermission piece wherein Doc Scratch gives Fin and Trace a token reward for their good work. [Obligatory nudging and winking here] Rated M, completed.


Muttered sentences and hissed laughter were what followed the two figures as they ducked through the winding hallways of Felt Manor, movements fitting strangely together, like the teeth of a cog would. They both came to a halt, voices falling, as they found a large set of doors, oddly tucked away for their size, and stopped in front of them.

"Man, he is gonna be so glad we got this done." Trace said, grinning widely.

"'Course he will." Fin agreed, mirroring his expression. "In fact, I'd care to wager he'd be feeling exceptionally... Grateful, after being told all about it."

They both snickered briefly, then composed themselves. There was a pause as the two seemed to sober up, then Trace reached for the door handle to let them in. They knew by now knocking before entering was completely optional when entering Doc Scratch's apartments. He was expecting them; if he didn't want them in, the doors would have been locked.

Fin entered first, calling out, "Doc! We're back!" He was the taller of the two, with a bright shock of ginger hair, the front of which arced forward at what was likely a right angle, if anyone cared to measure. His eyes he considered to be an embarrassingly soft shade of brown, though to others they were uncannily knowing, even creepy to an extent. He was paler than his companion Trace, and skinnier, with better posture.

Trace had a habit of slouching. This, combined with his mess of dark brown hair that was admittedly a bit oily and oddly smug expression, made him look a bit like some sort of creeper. Though his blue eyes were cold enough, he lacked the personality; he was too loud and whiny to keep up an unsettling front, and like Fin seemed to come across as a lazy college bum to most. He was tanned and built stronger than Fin, but despite these differences the two shared the same jagged teeth. Trace's were a bit heavier on bottom, and Fin's were more pronounced on top, but they were the same- sharp and menacing when they flashed the wrong kind of grin at others.

Their immediate area was empty; it largely resembled a normal office with a desk, chairs along the walls ready to be pulled up as needed, and bookshelves behind it, all neatly organized. The large, dark green desk chair had a white suit jacket draped over it, telling them that the doctor was in, though not there to immediately receive them. Even Fin and Trace knew better than to enter the doorway beyond the desk uninvited, as that was where Scratch's apartments truly began. They'd been back there, and it was infinitely more interesting to them than the office anteroom. Even so, they stood patiently. Doc Scratch left no trails, or rather, he covered them of his own accord. His coming and goings were his own business, he'd told them once. So the duo had nothing to do but wait until he arrived.

It wasn't long until Scratch appeared in the doorway, a slim man marginally shorter than Trace. He was stunningly different in appearance, however, with stark white skin reminiscent of a china doll. His hair was the same color, short and neatly combed, but his eyes stuck out drastically. They were a magnificently bright green, with no distinction between white and iris. The only thing that set the pupil apart was that it was a darker green, but just as alive with energy as the rest. His gaze, in the beginning, had been unsettling in its entirety, and though it still held a certain power, the pair was accustomed to it by now, even accepting of it. He had calm, elegant features, and an overall expectant way of carrying himself. This made sense considering he knew generally everything.

"Good evening, you two." He said pleasantly. Scratch's voice was one that begged to be listened to, and went in the ears as fluidly as quicksilver, and was just as hard to pin down. Fin and Trace both responded to it with their own greetings, instantly betraying how invested they were already.

They had every right to be; they knew by now that jobs well done meant rewards.

"I take it you were successful?" Scratch asked. He'd stepped in from the threshold and, after crossing his arms behind his back, walked slowly between the two.

"Yeah, of course, you don't even have to ask." Fin said first, turning his head to watch him. It was true Scratch didn't; he was only playing curious.

"We wouldn't've showed back up if we weren't." Trace agreed. Scratch had his back to them now, clearing Fin to give his counterpart a sharp elbow as a means of telling him to tone it down. They glared briefly at each other before Scratch resumed speaking.

"I knew I could count on you both. You have been exceptionally proficient as of late, you know." Scratch's tone was casual as he took his time crossing the remainder of the room. "I take it Crowbar was pleased as well?"

"Yeah." Was the decidedly less enthusiastic reply.

"But c'mon, we didn't do that because Crowbar told us to." Trace rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, he's in charge, but-"

"It was orders from you, too." Fin interjected. "So it felt more important."

Scratch chuckled as he locked his doors. Fin and Trace's hearts leapt in sync when they heard the click, and though they both wanted to assume they were in the clear, they had to be careful. "You flatter me." Scratch said, turning again. Immediately they straightened up. He was met at once with "Oh, well, you deserve it". He really did find it amusing they were trying so hard. The two of them were rather eager, that much was easily understood. Scratch was sure to milk their patience. The man was fond of games he could win, and they all knew Doc Scratch never lost.

He motioned for them to follow and, barely containing triumphant grins, they did, entering the series of rooms beyond the office. They were all small and connected, and included a personal bathroom, conjoined bedroom, and sitting area, scattered with interesting objects Fin and Trace honestly had no clue what purpose they were there to serve. Nor did they care; their eyes were always on something, or rather, someone else. They followed at Scratch's heels like puppies as he spoke, listening intently.

"I again find myself rather glad the Felt has both of you on roster. You have been continually proving yourselves better and better at getting your work done, despite the rather, ah... Difficult start we encountered." The two faltered briefly. It was true they hadn't always been the most focused, but he wouldn't bring that up now would he?

"But I digress. It is true you have improved and that is all that matters, past mistakes aside." Scratch came to a halt in the sitting area, though no one sat. The low-lying green couches remained unoccupied. "I am undeniably glad for this progress, and expect you to continue your good work." He smiled at the two of them, who still listened raptly. "Though I understand there is some desire between you two for a form of, shall we say, positive reinforcement." Scratch could read them both at a glance. At least they both had the grace not to look guilty. Scratch knew they wanted a treat, and he was not one to disappoint. But they were yanking at their metaphorical leashes, waiting on edge for the word from him that would set them loose.

"Well, go on, then."

Fin struck first, as per usual, nearly lunging forward to seize Scratch's mouth with his own in a rough kiss. One hand tangled in his white locks, the other pressing against the small of his back. Trace came in mere moments after, his arms winding under Scratch's and immediately beginning to tug at his bow tie. His mouth found Scratch's neck and kissed there openly as his hands worked almost urgently at the knot. Scratch rested one hand across Fin's back and the other on top of Trace's head, which had popped over his shoulder. He smirked against Fin's mouth, eyes closing and shuttering out his brilliant irises.

Just as quick as he'd pressed their lips together, Fin pulled away, craning in to high on Scratch's neck, a bit below his ear. With little hesitation, he sank his teeth with ease into the porcelain skin.

"Ah," Scratch gasped softly, back arching a bit and lifting him closer to Fin's mouth. Trace was still working at the bow tie, and once the slip of green fabric hit the floor, he was pulling at the buttons on Scratch's dress shirt, sharp teeth scraping at the delicate skin on the other side of his neck. They pulled up skin and drew forth jade green blood with ease, lapping it up or simply letting it run down. Several seconds after they would pull away, the bite wounds had healed entirely. Such was the nature of a First Guardian.

Scratch felt minimal pain from the biting- just enough to brace him in a good way, he found. Once he was able, he slid his arms out of his sleeves and pulled his shirt out of the way, exposing the almost feminine curve of his back. Trace wasted no time in sinking his teeth into his shoulder. Their hands roamed his chest leisurely, Scratch indicating through quiet whines and the tugging of hair which places felt good when subjected to them.

It was obvious the two weren't much for conversation as they went about their business, as they preferred to keep their mouths busy, and the majority of noise came from Scratch. Even that sound was soft, however, and occasionally interjected by low hums or even growls from the two. Trace's hands rubbed down Scratch's sides as he kissed and bit his skin, peppering it with dark green incisions. One slipped lower and lower, along his side and to his hip. He gave it a squeeze and, just as it moved to cup his crotch, Scratch's own hand caught him by the wrist. Trace looked up, alarmed, at Scratch. His other hand hooked the back of Fin's collar and tugged him away. Fin made a whining sound as this occurred, looking at Scratch entreatingly.

"I do think that's enough for now, boys." He said casually.

"Aw!"

"But-"

Scratch broke off from the two to retrieve his dress shirt, slipping it on to cover the vanishing remnants of their work. "None of that. You've had a taste, so to speak, and the rest comes after you've proved yourselves further. Are we clear?"

They agreed, but not without a healthy amount of grumbling about how Scratch was being a tease and so on. But he knew that wouldn't last. He considered the two his dogs, yes, but in the most respectable and affectionate sense, and meant no harm by it. Besides, he knew that they'd acquired a taste by now, and would bite, scratch, and claw for more, just as he wanted.


End file.
